


the boy who ran with wolves

by PrincezzShell101



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:18:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrincezzShell101/pseuds/PrincezzShell101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter bites Stiles and it doesn't take.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the boy who ran with wolves

Stiles's fingers curl, weak and brittle, against his coat sleeves, honey dew coloured eyes drooping as he breathes unevenly. His skin is paler than Peter has ever seen it, ashen and cold to the gentlest touch, the warmth slowly seeping out of his pores along with the thick, tar-like blood that's clotting up his body's arteries. As the boy's teeth chatter, Peter sits there holding him and just  _doesn't understand_.

"Stop scowling, creeperwolf. M'kay," Stiles murmurs. His voice teeters, a wisp of a hiss following his words and Peter grips him tighter, arms shaking as the reality of the situation becomes harder and harder to cope with.

His bite isn't taking. Stiles is immune. Stiles is  _dying_.

"This shouldn't be h-happening," he mumbles, stutter crumbling his speech in two as he whines, low and afraid. " _Fight_! C'mon, Stiles, you have to fight! You have to  _want_  it."

The dull quiet in the air becomes almost silent and Peter freezes as he centres his senses, latches onto a heartbeat losing strength and softening its tempo. His eyes flicker as he looks down, their murky azure irises glinting into a violent and icy sharpness.

Stiles's teeth have stopped chattering, fingers slacked loose from Peter's coat sleeves, digits lying limp and curled toward his palm. There are dozens of tiny drops of sweat clinging to the damp strands of his hairline, almost like melting wax as they drip onto his forehead and slink their small, cascading pathways down his cheekbones.

Something inside Peter snaps. It's his wolf. He feels his wolf go into a relentless panic. A rattling shiver deep and thorough in his rib cage as it howls out its despair.

"Please. You can fight it.  _Please_ , Stiles," he begs, pleads.

Then he hears it.

A heart starts to beat faster, thump louder.

Peter hangs onto hope, his wolf whimpering in fear and disbelief as he inadvertently coaxes the heart of his boy, _his _Stiles__ , to rise in tempo.

It doesn't last.

It takes only mere seconds for the heart in his ears to falter and slow, beats becoming shallow once more.

"No, no,  _no_ ,  _no_ ,  _no_ ," he chokes. He chants the words as if they'll kick-start the healing, turn this human and save him.

He knows it's not to be.

Stiles's breathing picks up, short little breathless gasps that tremble his entire body as Peter holds him to his chest, eyes sliding shut in denial.

Seconds later they cease, and Stiles goes still. Silent. Lifeless is Peter's arms. A timid flutter sounds before his heart stops completely. Forever.

Peter's eyes snap open as he drags them over the boy's body in his arms.

Lips parted. Eyes shut. Entire being devoid of life.

A whisper of a howl catches on the wind. A broken, lonely, hollow echo. The departing howl of a lost wolf that would never have a chance to sing.

The ghost sensation brushes against Peter's skin, ruffles his hair and chills him to the bone.

Seven words that, a year and a few months back, he'd said to Stiles, re-awaken to haunt him.

**Some people just aren't made for this** **.**

With a shaky sigh and a bow of the head, Peter Hale howls toward the pure and bright, white glow of the moon.

His last song to the boy who ran with wolves, whose purpose now was to run with the ones in the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> It's been said for generations that, at night, if you're extremely lucky and listen very carefully, you just might hear the mournful crooning of a wolf howling out to its lost love.


End file.
